


A Gentleman's Daughter

by RewriteThisStory



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019)
Genre: 50 Ways to Sanditon, F/M, Sidlotte-ish only at the end- sorry, if I write more- there will be Sidlotte
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RewriteThisStory/pseuds/RewriteThisStory
Summary: Charlotte has always been observant- and innately good at reading people.  But some are harder to puzzle out than others.May become a series of one shots... if the muse- and time- allows.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & Mary Parker, Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	A Gentleman's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> I'm attempting the 50 ways to Sanditon challenge with SanditonCreative on Tumblr. 
> 
> I chose the Austen Special (assuming I manage to stay on task). No promises I'll manage it, nor that I'll play by all the rules. (Picking a tourist pack was HARD...) 
> 
> Prompt used: a gentleman's daughter
> 
> But, it seemed like fun (and I was struck by the desire to write again recently!) so for as long as I have the time and attention, I'll play along. 
> 
> This idea came to me at 4:30 this morning, nearly fully formed, while I was up with a migraine... so I spent the day getting it out. (Responsibilities, what responsibilities?)

Ever since she was a young girl, Charlotte had an innate understanding of most people. Children her own age especially. She knew when her friend Lucy was sad because the boy in town hadn’t smiled at her as they passed in the street or that her brothers were angry with one another over an incident that happened in the barn earlier in the day. Or when her father was especially pleased with the harvest, or worried about the new calf. 

She never spoke of it, as she had no reason to think it was out of the ordinary. 

She did notice at times that some adults were harder to read, especially when they were having ‘grown up’ conversations. But she assumed it was because she was not yet a grown up and didn’t understand much of what they were talking about. 

At some point, perhaps around the age of seven or eight, she began to notice that she could tell when people were untruthful. It buzzed like a low hum in her mind. Her brother John, who was five at the time, caused this sensation frequently as he swore to their parents that he hadn’t broken the teacup nor shoved Daniel (who was only three) when he took his ball. 

As she grew older, people began to comment on what an observant young woman she was, and how good she was with children. She didn’t think much of it, children were easy to read. She knew when they were happy or sad, tired or hungry. 

But adults remained a mystery at times. Some more than others. 

Old Mr. Weatherby for example- he had lost his wife and child in a terrible accident years before she was born. Everyone said the loss had changed him, and he had never remarried. 

To the children in town, he was simply a grumpy old man who had little patience and walked about with a perpetual scowl. Unlike most of the shopkeepers in Willingden, he never had a kind smile or a small sweet for the children who browsed his shop. 

Charlotte could never get a read on him, but in fairness, he was so irritable and unfriendly she’d rarely spent much time trying. But on the occasion she had tried, it felt as if she was trying to see through a wall. 

Her mother however, was generally easy to understand. She usually exuded contentment as she went about her daily work, often humming to herself. At times, she was a bit harried or worried, but that was only natural as a mother of a dozen children. In general though, Charlotte felt only kindness and patience from her mother as she managed the house, guided her children through lessons, and mediated the many, minor arguments that always seem to arise amongst siblings. 

Charlotte felt as if she knew most of her neighbors as well as she knew her own family; after all, Willingden didn’t attract many visitors. 

So when the Parker’s carriage overturned near her home it was a unique experience to have new people to meet and observe. 

After the initial maelstrom of fear, confusion and, shortly after, at least for the gentleman, pain; she found the Parkers to be some of the most guileless people she had ever known. Mary’s open kindness rivaled her own mother’s. Though Mary was considerably more reserved- which served to balance her husband’s far more rhapsodic nature. 

Mr. Tom Parker… he was unlike anyone she had ever met. His enthusiasm was so overwhelming, she felt herself caught up in it, her mind swept up in the visions of the town he was creating. 

So when she was invited to visit, she could no more contain her excitement than Mr. Parker could. 

Her father however, had his own reservations. 

She had realized by now that her tendency to make uncannily accurate… observations, as she called them, went a bit beyond what most people could do. She had long wondered if her father possessed a bit of the same ability. 

He was a quiet man, who preferred to remain close to home rather than travel nor did he enjoy being among large groups of people. In fact, he didn’t much care to go into town, if he could avoid it. And with so many happy errand runners at his disposal, he rarely had to leave his own property. 

So the day before her departure, when he found her at the bridge overlooking the river near their home, she was unsurprised that he wished to impart words of wisdom. She noted that his mind was a bit gray, as if covered by a shadow- a tendency she’d noticed in adults when they were holding back from saying that which was truly on their mind. 

She took his arm as they started walking slowly down the path together. 

“Just a word, my dear, just a word.” He paused before continuing, gathering his thoughts, “These uh, seaside resorts can be odd places.” 

She squinted up at him, as if that would allow her to see past the shadow. To her surprise, she caught a flash of sand and water, a gathering of people. 

“No one quite knows who anyone else is,” he continued carefully, “where they come from and what they are up to.”

Charlotte shook her head a little at his concern, “That sounds… stimulating.” It had been a long time, before the Parkers’ arrival last week, since she had the opportunity to meet anyone outside the residents of their village. 

Her father chuckled softly, "Yes, well, I suppose it is. But uh, the normal rules of conduct tend to be relaxed." She felt the gray deepen, sealing off the fleeting images of coastal waters. She glanced quickly at his face, but it gave away nothing. "And sometimes altogether flouted." 

She gave a small smile, attempting to pry out that which he was concealing, “But if I’m with Mr. and Mrs. Parker, nothing bad can happen, can it?”

Her father was quiet for a moment, “Just, um,” he stopped their progress to look at her, “be careful, that’s all.” 

She could feel his love and concern, but got no further glimpse of what caused the latter- which made her far more curious. “Careful of what, Papa?” 

“Everything,” was his enigmatic answer. 

\---

Even so, Charlotte could not contain her excitement as she climbed in the Parker’s carriage and waved goodbye to her family. She was keen to arrive in Sanditon and start her new adventure. 

\---

Her enthusiasm was dampened a bit by her introduction to the rather cantankerous lady of the town, Lady Denham. 

However, Charlotte found her niece, Clara, to be, at least on the surface, of a sweet nature. But Charlotte was prevented from digging deeper by the sudden arrival of yet more guests and then a walk along the cliffs. 

Sir Edward Denham raised a peculiar, rather unpleasant feeling in her. A mix of the hum of untruthfulness and something else. She wasn’t unhappy to be called away from his attentions, even if it meant enduring an inquisition, and some rather rude assumptions, by Lady Denham. 

They were met on their walk by another pair, Mr. Tom Parker's brother and sister. The duo's immediate catalogue of their recent ailments gave her yet more to wonder at. 

Her head swam from all of the new impressions and information. These new acquaintances would take some time to unravel. 

Her father was right, these people were unlikely to be exactly as they seemed. 

And she had barely even spoken to Miss Esther Denham. 

When she was finally able to return to her quiet room at the end of the evening, it was with a bit of relief. She had worried a bit about feeling lonely- she had always shared her room with Alison, but she found the strange silence rather comforting after the bustle of the day. 

Not to say she hadn't enjoyed her first day immensely, it was just a bit overwhelming. She fell asleep far more quickly than she expected. 

\---

It was a few days later, as Charlotte and Mary were walking along the cliffs to call on Lady Denham, that they saw a carriage approaching quickly.

After a moment, Mary exclaimed happily, “It’s Tom’s brother, Sidney!” 

Mary waved him down, and Charlotte squinted to get a first look at the brother she’d heard so much about. 

As he got closer, he dismounted and walked the short distance to join them. For the briefest of moments, their eyes met and she felt as if a shock ran through her- though she wasn’t sure if it originated from him or herself. 

He was tall, well dressed and strikingly handsome. 

But far more striking was the sudden impression of a formidable iron gate being swiftly shuttered over his thoughts as he approached. 

She’d never known anything like it. 

She was so focused on trying to get another glimpse that she was startled by his query as to her association with Mary. 

Who walks along the cliffs with their maid? ...What a peculiar question. 

But maybe this was a common practice in Sanditon. Her father did say it might be an odd place. 

She probed his mind again, but to no avail. It was as if she had no ability at all. 

When he asked her name, moments after Mary introduced her, she didn’t feel uncertainty nor embarrassment coming from him- as might be expected after forgetting a name as soon as it was uttered. Rather, what little she could glean from him more closely resembled the murmurs she felt when someone was being untruthful. 

Which made the situation even more odd. Why would he lie about not knowing her name? They'd only just met. 

He’d given her the barest of nods before looking away to the sea. As he spoke with Mary, he seemed to pointedly avoid her gaze- looking at the ground, the horizon and Mary, but not her. 

She barely heard what they discussed, too focused on trying to reason him out. 

However, just before they parted, he glanced back at her and she felt a brief wave of confusion- which did not help clarify her own. This tiny window to his thoughts closed immediately, the moment he looked back at Mary to bid her farewell. 

He climbed back into his carriage and drove away. 

They continued on their walk and Mary tried to explain his odd behavior. Mary’s thoughts on Sidney resonated with a mixture of love, familial pride and concern. She caught a fleeting feeling of despair, but it was softened- as if mellowed by time. 

Though Mary held her arm, Charlotte turned to look as Mr. Sidney Parker disappeared over the hills, confounded by this newest, and most befuddling, puzzle. 

\---

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to write a few more of these for the 50 Ways to Sanditon challenge (as well as others not in this 'verse). I have ideas for scenes with Charlotte/several characters other than Sidney and of course, several WITH Charlotte and Sidney. 
> 
> We'll see what time and the muse allows... 
> 
> I've never written anything with a fantasy/supernatural element in it before... I tend to stick to real life. But I wanted to try it. (Yay 4am migraines...) 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
